Harry Potter and the Link of Identity
by Fyren
Summary: With changing features, feelings, and DADA teacher, can Harry stay Harry? Or will the link between him and Voldemort change him? Forever. HHR 6th year fic.
1. Just Like You

AN: This is my first story, so I guess this is the part where I ask you to take it easy on me.  Then again, you never get anywhere if you have it easy.  Please give me your honest opinion, and hopefully it will be constructive.  Also, my grammar and punctuation is terrible.  English has to be my worst subject.  So please, bear with me.  Thanks, and R/R.

This WILL be H/Hr. Trust me. =P

Disclaimer: I do not own anything related to Harry Potter other then those books that I bought, I am in no way, shape, or form affiliated with JK Rowling, so please, if you must sue, don't sue me over this.

_"Crucio!" The small woman writhed in agony as the feeling of hot knives assaulted her body.  The room was dark, cavernous.  It appeared as light hadn't reached the room in a millennia, for in face, it wasn't a room, but instead a cave of sorts.      Obsidian stalactites hung from the ceiling, as if they would fall and impale those beneath.  The cavern was misty, the salty breeze blowing in turning it foggy, limiting the distance of sight even more.   Two piercing slits of red eyes broke the fog though, eyes full of hatred and loathing, eyes that had seen much, and craved yet to see more.  A loud chuckle emanated from the cloaked figure that the snake like eyes belonged too. _

_            "Please Master, I beg of you, he's but a foolish boy, he will see that.  I have always encouraged him to join under you my Lord, I have never steered him away from you." The woman's small beady eyes moved rapidly back and forth, glancing at her master on one side, and here husband who had sentenced her to this on the other.  She worked to keep her anger and hatred towards her Husband in check.  If the Dark Lord noticed..._

_            "That's not what Lucius says Narcissa.  He believes you have been telling young Draco to resist me and Lucius.   You don't understand how important Draco is to my cause; I need to know young Potter's condition.  Your son is the key.  If I ever find out anything about you diverting him from being a Death Eater you will pay with your life.  Trust me. CRUCIO!"  His dark laugh reverberated through the cavern._

_ Lucius stood and watched as his beautiful and enticing wife screamed her throat raw. He almost regretted his decision to tell his Lord.  Almost.  _

_Narcissa Malfoy curled up in agony, the pain seemingly never ending.  The Dark Lord still stood, his wand in front, continuing the torture.  He felt a sick and sadistic pleasure, but as the thick, almost solid mist dissapeared, the Dark Lord came into view, but instead of the twisted face of Tom Riddle laughing, it was the young, not so naive face of a Harry Potter._

            Harry Potter, the boy who lived, shot out of bed for the 20th time that week.  He reached up and felt his scar, throbbing, as the pain slowly receded. He sighed quietly. _'Why must this always happen? I want one night of sleep, one night!'_ It was pointless; he would never get sleep, not with Voldemort always in his dreams, or nightmares of Sirius falling through the bloody veil.  Visions of Voldemort where preferable to the nightmares, which left him sobbing as he woke.

            Harry was confused though. Why did his dreams always end in Voldemort looking like Harry?  From the eyes, to the hair, to even the slightness of nose, something changed about Voldemort that was a feature of Harry.  This was the first one in which Voldemorts face had taken on the complete appearance of Harry's. What did this mean? Harry shuddered.

            He knew he should have gotten better with his Occlumency lessons. But how was he supposed to learn with that slimy bastard Snape attacking his memories constantly. What good was practicing if you didn't learn and only grew to hate more? He needed to be calm before going to bed, but he couldn't. So Voldemort visited often.

Standing up he slowly rubbed his aching neck and forehead, as he prepared for the day. He took a quick glance at his clock, which dully showed a four. Another audible sigh left his lips. He had been with the Dursleys for two weeks, and had probably accumulated a total of three days worth of sleep. Harry was used to it. How could he ever get any sleep with a Dark Lord entering his thoughts every night, or on the days he was merciful instead a dream of your Godfather's death?

            He walked into the bathroom; the Dursleys were still blissfully asleep, enjoying the 10 hours of sleep that Harry was deprived of. Turning on the faucet he repeatedly splashed his face with water and wiped his face off. Looking into the mirror a green and blood red eye stared back. The red eye smoldered on the left side of his face, glaring at the mirror in a familiar way. He blinked, and it was gone, replaced with the dull shine of sleepless green eyes. Harry shrugged. The lack of sleep was catching up on him.  

            Walking down the stairs he grinned slightly, he still had a few hours before the Dursleys got up and he was forced to make breakfast. The tension was palpable between Harry and the Dursleys when they were together. He was afraid that Dumbledore had sent a letter telling of the "unfortunate circumstances" that had befallen Harry's only loving relative. They weren't sympathetic, but maybe they thought they were by acting like he didn't exist. Of course, it was a façade. He couldn't walk into the room without them stiffening. He wasn't sure why they acted that way, had Dumbledore actually have told them the prophecy?

            Harry shrugged it off; there was no way Dumbledore would have told them, right?  He pulled out _Defense Against the Dark Arts Grade Five,_ and lightly reviewed.  He was nervous about his O.W.L.S., he didn't know if he had meet the demanding scores needed for Auror training. Potions and Transfiguration worried him. He was an acceptable student in Potions at most times; let alone an Excellent or Outstanding. After reading another chapter, he realized he had a little over a hour before the Dursleys would wake.

Walking into the kitchen he pulled out a little bit of food for his own breakfast, where he then took it out to the living room and attempted to catch the early news. He had reverted back to his old habits of watching the news for information on Voldemort. Harry was sure now that Voldemort was in the open, or as open as could be, that he would start making moves, restarting his reign of terror. Alas, nothing had happened again, or at least nothing noticed by Muggles. He would have to ask Hermione to send him her Daily Prophets after she had read them. Since they seemed to not be sending him much mail that summer. For a second, he wondered if Ron and her were at Grimmaulds place. The thought of the two together without him fired up his anger, which he tried to stop before he would have to be with the Dursleys again.

            As the news ended, he heard the ringing of Uncle Vernon's alarm clock. Grumbling about how unfair it was for the Dursleys to sleep well AND have a breakfast ready for them he walked back into the kitchen.  He didn't want to have any confrontations with his Uncle, especially when he was idle. It was much easier when you had something to do and didn't have to look at your object of loathing.

            Pulling out half a rasher of Bacon, he slowly fried up some eggs as he heard Vernon walking down the stairs. Vernon walked in, still in his robe and sat down with his newspaper. Aunt Petunia followed, and then 10 minutes later the loud thumping on the stairs heralded the entry of Harry's enormously obese cousin. The diet hadn't slimmed him down, but it had kept him from growing any larger. Grinning from ear to ear he looked over Harry's shoulder and pilfered a piece of bacon. Harry could care less, hopefully some time in the near future Dudley would have a heart attack, and would either die (That option didn't look that bad), or would realize what he had become and would be forced to change his ways.

            Setting down the food, Vernon glared at his nephew, not even bothering to conceal his loathing, which didn't surprise Harry one bit. "Why where you up so early boy?" It seemed more like a grunt then a sentence.

"I'm up this early every morning." Dudley smirked knowingly, his eyes gleaming with cruelty. 

Vernon grunted again at Harry's answer. "Fine then, why are you up every morning so early?" The question was asked with a hard steel used by Vernon when talking to Harry.

            Harry swallowed. His mind couldn't formulate a decent lie, so he decided to tell the truth. "I'm having trouble sleeping, I've had some…nightmares."  Harry wanted to either hit Dudley hard enough to wipe off that smirk, or ask what was so amusing. Before Vernon could reply,  Dudley finally came out with it.

            "Maybe it's that freak of a Godfather of yours. You know, the one that got his lights snuffed out good, the dirty son of a-" He never got the chance to finish that sentence because Harry's fist collided with the smirk, knocking him back and tipping his chair over. Blood gushed from Dudleys large mouth, as well as two teeth, as he screamed like a toddler. Harry wasn't sure if he was more pleased, or mollified. He decided pleased until Vernon looked up, his glare full of hate and smoldering slightly. Harry shrank away.

            "YOU!!!" That was all he said as he grabbed Harry's arm and dragged him away. Harry kicked and wiggled, attempting to break free of his Uncles grasp. Dragging him into the hall he opened a latch, and threw Harry inside. Pain blossomed in the back of his head as he realized where he was, the old cupboard under the stairs. His legs where scrunched up against his chest. He had been considerably smaller when he had last visited the cupboard. "You freak! After all we have done, you attack us? It will be a long time before you ever leave this place boy."  Vernon stormed away.

            Harry sighed. He wasn't sure if it had been worth it then, and now he was sure it hadn't been. Why was he letting his anger control him? Once again his inability to control his emotions had caused him trouble. He understood where all the bottled up anger and stress was coming from. How could he ignore all of it? The prophecy had put stress and pressure on him, something that he already had in large quantities. There was the living with the Dursleys, which always made him tense every summer. For some reason, there was the anger at Ron and Hermione at their closeness, which when he thought of it made his mouth taste of ashes, something he couldn't understand. Of course, who could forget the fact that the only person who had loved him as a family member, that he could remember, had died only weeks earlier?

            Slowly tears of sadness, regret, frustration, and every other emotion he could think of slowly trickled down his cheeks.  He would have to deal with this later; there was nothing he could do while he was in the cupboard. At first he thought of his surroundings. Would the Order come to check up on him? Or would Vernon find some way to fool the wizard protectors?  How long would he be left in here? Would they feed him? Waiting was his only option.  Wiggling into a better position, he prepared for the long wait. He wiped his teary face with a small hand towel in the cupboard. He never noticed the red stain that had appeared where he had wiped his face.


	2. Speculum

            A/N: Wow, thanks for the reviews. I hope I can deliver some good HP reading material. =) Any criticism or helpful words are appreciated.

Disclaimer: I do not own anything related to Harry Potter other then those books that I bought, I am in no way, shape, or form affiliated with JK Rowling, so please, if you must sue, don't sue me over this.

            His legs where thoroughly cramped, the 2 days he had spent in the cupboard, with no food, had sent him through a wide range of emotions. The cramped muscles, and the loud grumbling in his stomach didn't help much. For the first few hours he had wanted to sob at the harshness that was his life. Harry was completely confused on why such terrible, and unjust punishments where given to him. Of course, it was the Dursleys; he knew he shouldn't have expected anything but this. Both elder Dursleys would have considered Harry attacking their son to be a crime punishable by death, but thankfully they weren't allowed to administer such a punishment.  That thought alone had wanted to make Harry laugh hysterically, but then the Dursleys would have kept him in there for longer for fear of his sanity.

            After the sad, feeling sorry for himself stage passed, a wave of anger, which was all too familiar from last year, washed over him. Out of anger, and his overactive imagination of thinking the little door was his Uncles face, he hit it with all the strength he could muster. Of course, his knuckles started bleeding, but it was almost worth it to hear the loud wail of his Aunt who had been passing by.

            The worst feeling possible came over him next, which would last with him 'till the rest of his life, no matter how hard others tried to quell it. It was the feeling of self-depreciation, a feeling, that he deserved this. Sirius had died because of him; he deserved some type of punishment. Cedric had died because of him.  All his friends had nearly died at the ministry because of him.  Maybe he deserved everything the Dursleys did to him. Was he even deserving of life? His own life had cost both his parents.  With a sob he curled up and fell asleep.

            Harry woke to a bright light shining in his eyes and a shoe toe digging into his ribs. He finally became coherent and put together the words coming out of his Uncle's mouth. "Get out of there boy, you've been in there long enough. I want you in your room, unless we call you down you hear?" Harry could only nod. "And if I ever find that you touched my son you will never see that school of yours. You'll never see the light of day for a matter of a fact. Now get up there, I'm tired of seeing your face. A letter for you from those freaks from the train station arrived. I hope you tell them that everything is fine.  Just stay away from us, and we'll act like the attacking of my son never happened."  Vernon stomped off, probably to go read the paper or watch the Tele.

Harry was confused. Why was Vernon letting him off so easy? He had hit his son in the mouth, something that Harry thought would have made the Dursleys kick him out, or at least give him a beating.  But no, maybe the warnings from the Order really had cowed the large man into withholding his volatile temper, at least somewhat.  He would just have to watch his anger closely, and not allow himself to lash out at Dudley or any of the other Dursleys.

He stood up and stretched out. The sound of his bones popping, and his muscles groaning in protest made him grimace. Looking back into the little cupboard he stared in wonder. There was no way he could have fit in there it seemed, not now when he was much larger then his scrawny 11 year old frame. From the feelings in his muscles, he changed his mind. It was easily possible.  The growling of his stomach made him consider go asking for some food, but his better judgment told him that if he wanted to stay out of the cupboard he should do as he was told.

            Trudging up the stairs, Harry found some cold leftovers from the previous nights dinner at the foot of his bedroom door. Picking up the plate, he entered and sighed with contentment as he shoveled the food in his mouth. Lukewarm water, which had also been there was guzzled. Glancing up after he had cleaned the plate thoroughly he saw two owls, one being Hedwig who seemed to be quite angry with Harry. She flew over and perched herself on his shoulder while hooting angrily. She looked slightly put off, as if Harry had tried to get rid of her.  "Sorry girl, it wasn't my fault. I'll bring you some leftover food tomorrow, I promise."

            After several seconds the birds attitude quickly changed. With a affectionate nip of his ear, Hedwig went over to her bowl for water, obviously content with Harry's promise.  Where she had been perched sat a letter. It was the letter from the Order as Vernon had said.

            _Dear Harry,_

_            This letter is to check up on you, a reply must be given with in 24 hours of being sent or a member will be dispatched to check up on. In order to verify the writing is yours, touch your wand to this envelope, and return your reply in said envelope. _

_            Thank you, _

_            Moody_

Harry sighed, that was definitely a letter from Moody, formal, and discreet. Not a question of how he was doing, or if anything was going on. It was always business with that man. Pulling out his wand from his drawer he touched the envelope then wrote out a quick reply. He felt no need to have the order come after what had happened, it really was no big deal.

            _Dear Moody,_

_            I am fine, a few problems with the Dursleys, but they were my fault. I was wondering when it would be possible to leave here, and go to Snuffle's house? An answer would be appreciated. _

_            Harry_

Taking the letter, he attached it to Hedwigs leg. "Take this to Moody and the Order Hedwig. Make sure they give me a letter also, bother them if they don't." Hedwig hooted in comprehension, and took off out the window.

Looking over at the other owl, he realized it was a school owl. He was confused, his supply list wasn't supposed to come for quite awhile, then he realized. "My O.W.L.S!" Rushing over he took off the parchment and tore it open quickly. The owl cried out in indignation at the savage letter holder. Glancing through the list he grinned, he had done remarkably well. (A/N: I'm not sure how O.W.L.s work or the grading scale, so work with me.)

            _O.W.L. Results graded and certified by the Magical Schooling Association. (M.S.A.)_

            _Dear Harry Potter, _

_            As usual, O.W.L.'s are graded on this scale:_

_            Excellent- 2 O.W.L.'s _

_            Excellent – 1 O.W.L._

_            Acceptable – 1 O.W.L._

_            Poor – 0 O.W.L._

_            Terrible – 0 O.W.L._

            _Your Scores:_

_            Transfiguration: Outstanding_

_            Charms: Outstanding _

_            Defense Against The Dark Arts: Outstanding_

_            Potions: Excellent _

_            Herbology: Acceptable _

_            Care of Magical Creatures: Outstanding _

_            Astronomy: Acceptable_

_            Divination: Poor_

_            History of Magic: Poor_

_The creation of a Patronus earns an additional O.W.L. _

_ Due to the circumstances at time of Astronomy test taking, all scores are raised one level._

_Total: 12 _

Harry's grin slowly disappeared as the consequences of the Excellent in Potions earned him.  He couldn't be an Auror, not if Snape didn't accept anyone but Outstanding students into his N.E.W.T. Potions class. What was he going to do? Attached to the same owl was another letter, sealed with the Hogwarts emblem. As he opened it up he realized it was from Ms. McGonagall

_Dear Harry, _

_You earned excellent O.W.L.'s. I know you wished to be a Auror, and I believe you have the skills. That is why Hogwarts, and professor Snape are going to give you another chance to get into the N.E.W.T. Potion class. This summer, Professor Snape will visit you, and will give you a test. If you pass his standards, you will be allowed to take his course, if not, you must choose a different career. Of course, this test will be harder then the O.W.L. potions test was, but consider yourself privileged to have a second chance at getting into the Auror profession. Of course, you don't have to take the test or take the N.E.W.T. classes, but I hope you do. _

Once again Harry grimaced. Snape's test would be incredibly hard he knew. Snape just wanted his own chance to watch Harry personally fail. He'd show him though, even if it took the rest of the summer he would pass that Potions test. He continued on.

_The classes needed for the Auror profession are difficult, and would require much work. Dumbledore and I realize that you have a very busy schedule, with Quidditch, (You keep at it, Gryffindor needs you) your classes, the DA, which we want you to continue, and your, how should we say yearly adventures. We hope that you do take the classes, and put forth the best effort. _

_            Signed,_

_Minerva McGonagall_

_Deputy Head Mistress_

_Head of Gryffindor _

Harry grinned, something that came far and few between in the summer. Of course he would take the classes if he passed Potions, what did he have to lose? It also appeared like the life long ban the old hag Umbridge had put on him was over, and he would be allowed to play Quidditch again. The DA did scare him though, he didn't know if he could think of any new material for all the kids to learn. He was beginning to run out of spells. Maybe they could start actually practicing them in a fight this year.  He started composing a letter.  Smiling still, he signed his name. He reread the short letter real quick for mistakes.

_Dear Professor McGonagall, _

_Of course I accept the classes. Thank you for notifying me of my chance at taking the Potions test, I'm sure I'll pass. I was hoping that you could hand this to Professor Dumbledore. I would greatly appreciate any type of Defense Against the Dark Arts books that are available, that is if I'm going to continue the DA. I would like to keep up my knowledge so I don't embarrass myself come school year. Also, I was hoping that I could take Care of Magical Creatures still, even though it isn't part of the Auror classes. It wouldn't feel right not taking that class. Thanks for help in giving me a second chance at Potions, thanks for everything. _

_Signed, _

_Harry Potter _

He tied the short letter to the school owl, and watched as it took off. It looked like he had a lot of study time ahead of him.  Still watching the departing owl he saw another black speck grow larger in the sky. It was another owl, and it looked to be a school one also. Swooping in it went straight for Hedwig's water bowl and guzzled the remaining liquid. Harry was glad his owl was away, since Hedwig didn't take to well to other Owls who were so rude. He tried to pull the letter off the owl leg as it still drank. It turned its head toward him and let off a indignant hoot before allowing Harry to take the letter. The minute the letter was off it's leg it took off out the window. Harry could only shake his head.

Looking down he noticed Hermione's tidy scrawl and grinned even wider. This was his first letter from her this summer; he had been worried that her and Ron weren't allowed to send any letters like the summer before.  Tearing it open with such viciousness he drank in her words, which were much easier to read then Ron's sloppy penmanship.  There were so many questions he needed answers too, he hoped she could give them to him.

_Dear Harry, _

_            That owl that delivered this letter was the one that delivered my O.W.L. results. Can you believe it? I got into all the N.E.W.T. classes I took! _

Harry laughed; he could just imagine her squealing when she received her results. No one doubted she would do well.  Still chuckling he read on.

_I'm so excited! Even though I'm not training to be a Auror like you, my career profession has to take nearly the same classes as yours. If you hadn't guessed yet, I want to be a teacher. I think that all the tutoring and the amount of immaturity I had to put up with you and Ron has given me quite a bit of training. Professor McGonagall said I was nearly guaranteed a spot in the Hogwart's staff after I leave school! I need to calm down I think, my parents say I've been bouncing all over the house since I received my results, but they wouldn't understand.  _

_How are you doing Harry? Professor McGonagall also said we were going to continue the DA. Isn't that exciting? I'm going to buy all the books about Defense Against the Dark Arts I can at Diagon Alley. I'll send you the ones I finish so we can both be ready come the year. Ron and me are going to be staying at snuffles old house in a few weeks. All the Weasleys will be there like last year, I hope you can come join us. We have been sending letters to Dumbledore pleading for you to come. _

_Also, Malfoy broke out of Azkaban! I know you don't get the Prophet, but I decided to pass on this news to you. I don't think Dumbledore was surprised, as I saw him when I got my O.W.L.'s. He came to congratulate me on the best scores personally._

_Harry, we don't want you to blame yourself for Snuffle's death. It wasn't your fault. It was Voldemort's, you did everything you could to help Snuffles, even if it was misguided. Please, don't worry yourself over it. Everything will be fine, trust me. Snuffles was very proud of you, and this was the only way he wanted to go out. We all care for you Harry, don't let this tear you up inside. Everyone wants you to feel better, the entire Weasley family, the Order, and me too. Maybe you, Ron, and me can go do something this summer, to cheer you up. Maybe take Ron to a movie; I'm sure that would blow his mind. _

_            With Love, _

_            Hermione Granger_

Harry's smile faded. The acknowledgment of Sirius' death had crushed his happiness. In the past three days, he had thought more of Sirius then he had all summer so far.  There was so much pain inside he couldn't understand.  He also realized that Malfoy had been with Voldemort in the past dream. Lying back down onto his bed he dozed off. His tears unshed, and the letter still clutched tightly in his hand.

In a dark room, six men sat in a circle around a table. Piles of documents were stacked before them in towers. Men were scribbling words onto parchments as quick as humanly possible. Harry found himself watching from the side, not noticed by the men. The six men were of varying ages, from early twenties, to the seemingly thousands, like the feeling Dumbledore gave. Even so, they all worked and talked in the same manner, as if this was their life. Some had gray beards hanging down, others balding and darting eyes, and some with crafty, shrewd eyes, like those of a Slytherin. One seat was oddly empty, completing the seven seat circle.

All spoke in a weird language. Harry had heard it before.  He believed it was German. The language was rough, and spoke with many gutturals, as words tumbled out quickly as each man contributed to the symphony of voices. They all seemed important, giving off the same feeling, as those high in the ministry did, like Mrs. Bone's, or the foolish Minister Fudge. But these men didn't seem stupid, but they were urgent. Something had scared them, and Harry didn't know what.

            _One man spoke louder then the others, and the rest of the group quieted as the man rose. He was an older man, past his 50's, but he seemed to be the one in control.  He glanced nervously at the empty seat, and licked his lips. Slowly, he sung a light song under his breath as him and his companions joined hands. It seemed more of a prayer, a hymn. But it seemed sad, as if some depressing and crushing fate was to befall the group. As the haunting melody ceased from all the men, they released, and sat back down. Silence prevailed throughout the room as each sat and looked down, in silent respect._

_            As the silence dragged on forever it seemed to Harry, the door smashed inwards off its hinges. Two people walked in. Their hoods fell quickly as they looked at the six men. Harry knew their faces well. Lucius Malfoy, and Bellatrix Lestrange. Two of the people he loathed the most. The anger he felt towards Bellatrix came off of him in waves, he wished he could move over and attack her, but he was only an observer it seemed. The two scanned over the Wizarding group, and cursed. _

_            As Harry finally stopped trying to move towards Bellatrix a dark and looming presence entered the door. Voldemort. The Dark Lord walked straight towards the wizard who had lead the prayer. The man seemed unfazed as the rest of the group was. Grabbing the man by the front of his robe, he lifted him off his feet in a show of stunning physical strength. The man made no effort to fight, who seemed to have already accepted his fate. _

_            Finally, Voldemort spoke, "Where is the stinking rat? He was just here!" Peter, who had followed after flinched at the words of his master. Apparently rat hit too close to home for Peter._

_            The man only shrugged, and looked down, indifference on his face. Voldemort snarled in anger as he stared at the man. "Guder, you old fool. Tell me where he is! The bastards father may have done very well, but he seems not to have followed in his foot steps." The man only stared down. "Fine Guder, then you will die, along with your fellow men for resisting the Dark Lord." _

_            Peter spoke up quickly, looking to appease his master. "Master, may we not cast the Imperious curse on them? Then they would readily tell us where he is." _

_            Voldemort snarled at his underling, "No you fool, they aren't foolish enough to remember where he is. They erased their memories before we got here of his whereabouts. Kill them all." Pulling out his wand, he pointed it at the downcast man. Then it happened. _

_            Slowly, Voldemorts skin lightened. His nose widened slightly, his mouth and cheekbones became fuller. His baldhead grew dark messy hair, red eyes turned green, though they still held the same cruelty that had been in the red. Finally, a small lightning bolt shaped scar formed on Voldemorts head. The man, held in his grasp slowly opened his mouth in horror at what held him. _

_            Voldemort mouthed the words of Avada Kedavra, and a green light shot out of his wand, hitting the man in the chest. As his vision turned black, the last sight the man ever saw, was of a cruel, smiling Harry Potter._

             __

A/N: How was that chapter? A little bit longer I think. I'd like about each chapter to be around 3,000 words. I know it seems a bit weird, but of course it will be explained later on. Also, if you think the whole situation with Harry not telling the Order about the Dursleys is weird, think about how Harry is feeling. It seems like Cedric, Sirius, and all the injuries at the ministry are his fault. He feels he deserves to be treated cruelly. The Dursleys will get what they deserve, don't worry. =) Please, if you like what you read, please leave a review. The more you review the faster I'll type up the next chapters.


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